


Opulence

by salmonellafitzgerald



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-16
Packaged: 2018-02-17 13:44:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2311709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salmonellafitzgerald/pseuds/salmonellafitzgerald
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After reading Daryl's palm, Annette Greene and her Tinker kin disappear before she can reveal his future. In 15 years time, they return and Daryl is anxious to discover his destiny. Will it be magic or mischief that points him in the right direction?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prologue

Light filtered down and onto the forest floor, illuminating the leaves splayed on the ground, as two figures pushed their way through its thick labyrinth of trails. The wildlife briefly acknowledged the foreign invaders, as a couple of squirrels stopped scavenging and scurried quickly into the trees. The mismatched pair took turns navigating the brambles, the trail too narrow to allow them to walk side by side. The two brothers were complete opposites of each other, their piercing blue eyes drawing the only parallel between them. One was taller with mature muscle visible through a filthy wife-beater. The other was lanky and he possessed the maturing features of a teenaged boy. Branches reached out, grasping at his sleeveless plaid shirt.

Slowly, the trees began to thin out, affording a slight view of a clearing. It contained a caravan of small aging campers, all parked in a way that created a semi-circular shape. The constant movement of bodies and vehicles through the clearing had packed the sweet smelling grasses into the earth. There were small camps pitched by every vehicle and each sported its own fires and clotheslines full of garments fluttering brightly in the slight breeze.

The smell of herbs burned Daryl's nose. He'd never been to the gypsy camp before. It was the first time it had been back in ten years. His brother often joked that it brought with it the best pussy in the state of Georgia, but that wasn't why he had come. The last time the gypsies rolled through town he was five. His brother had disappeared for nearly a week, so Daryl intended to play interference this time. He had already resigned himself to spending the day alone while Merle sowed his oats.

Daryl could see signs of life spread out through the small camp. Dirt streaked children ran around each other, laughing and playing, while their mothers and fathers went about their various tasks. It brought the faintest hint of a smile to his face. Not having a childhood of his own, he loved to hear the sound of kids laughing. The clearing had somewhat of an uncanny feeling and it seemed as if the trees were capturing their laughter, causing it to reverberate over the camp and enveloping them in the sweetness of its sounds. It gave him a distinct feeling that he was protected from the constant motions of time and space.

A very curvy, dark headed woman met them at the edge of the semi-circle. Loose skirts of fabric flowed freely over her womanly body. Her hair cascaded down her back and gently brushed the top of her hips, giving her the look of a woodland nymph. Feral and a little wild. Daryl didn't get too much time to evaluate her before she was compelling them forward into the camp. Her light laughter and bright smiles put him at ease.

As quickly as she had appeared, her and his brother had disappeared inside one of the campers. It wasn't long before low, guttural moans drifted from the slightly opened windows. Daryl had taken a seat on the camper steps, but eventually got bored of his perch and decided to walk around. Occasionally, he noted the presence of a few people from town. Some of them were buying goods from various camps, but many of them were sitting at small round tables that had been erected near the center of the semi-circle. Each table had been covered with bright silk scarves.

On the tabletops, crystals of various shapes and sizes weighted down cards. Sometimes a cloud would shift, allowing the sun to shine brightly through the crystals and send light dancing across the ground. He watched the palm and card readers with fascination. They laughed and joked with their clients, completely at ease, as he glided by them unnoticed. Finally, he arrived at the camper farthest from the rest. Out of curiosity, he walked towards the open window and tried to peer inside. The fading light coupled with his height culminated to make it nearly impossible to see inside. He shifted his weight onto his toes and lifted himself up a little further.

"You shouldn't be peeking. It's not polite." A young blonde girl, no more than five, grinned at him. A small giggle bubbled up from her toes and spilled over her popsicle stained lips. He had been so startled by her appearance that he had almost fallen over, the jerking motion caused him to scrape his knee across the peeling metal and elicited a few swears. He looked her over and smiled.

"You gonna tell on me?" Her grin widened and she reached out her delicate little hand, urging him to take it. With one more glance towards the window, he took her hand and allowed her to lead him away towards the center of the circle. Her ponytail bobbed up and down, revealing glimpses of skin, browned from spending hours outside.

They arrived at one of the tables. A dark headed woman sat by it, staring blankly into the woods. Upon sensing their presence, she looked up and smiled. The little girl quickly scrambled away and into her lap. Her mother stroked her hair and gently squeezed her knee.

"And who do we have here Bethy?" She looked down at her daughter before turning her eyes back to Daryl. He shifted under her gaze, but held it steady.

"My name is Daryl." She smiled and placed her daughter down beside her chair, gesturing softly towards the unoccupied seat.

"I don' have any money." He turned out his pockets for effect, but she shook her head gently and gestured once again towards the empty chair.

"That's okay sweety, this one is on the house." Daryl took the seat. The hair on his arms stood up as she took his hand in hers and began tracing the lines on his palm. Her expression changed slightly and she attempted to school her face back into blank serenity. Daryl might have missed it if he hadn't been used to searching the nuances of his father's face, looking for anger or a glint of vindictive glee that signaled the beginning of his beatings. He waited patiently while she finished.

"What d'ya see?" The lady shook her head and laughed.

"Ask when you see me again." She patted him on the shoulder and took Beth's hand.

"You and your brother should stay for a while longer. You'll miss out if you leave now." They turned and began walking away towards the far trailer. Beth let her mother's hand drop and ran towards Daryl. She threw her arms around his waist and gave him one final smile before returning to her mother's side. He heard a raspy chuckle behind him and he turned to find Merle looking him over.

"New girlfriend Darylina? Little young."

"Don' call me that asshole." Daryl turned tail and marched away from the table and towards the gathering crowd, his brother in tow, laughing at his expense.

After nightfall, the camp was lit up. Torches and candles illuminated several women, all of which had changed into loose skirts and cropped tops. The vibrant colors swayed gently as they walked towards the center of the crowd. Their eyes blackened with pencil and lips painted red. To the left, a man named Otis began picking out a song on his guitar, his wife Patricia beating time with an old tambourine. It started out slow, the women's movements mimicking the rhythm of the song.

Quickly, the rhythm became more frantic. They danced around the howling crowed holding out headscarves for money. The woman that had lead them into camp danced close to Merle, her hips moving with the beat of the music. She ran her hand gently over his chest and gave him a small wink before returning to her sisters. Daryl could see little Beth, hugging the side of a girl not quite in her teens. Both of them were dressed like the performing women.

At the end of the dance, the spectators threw coins and bills into the circle. Beth and her sister walked around collecting them with a smile, waving farewell, as the crowd broke apart. Merle and Daryl dispersed with the rest walking back into the woods. As soon as he left the confines of the clearing, its spell was broken and he was transported back to reality, his head still fuzzy with the smell of herbs. He could vaguely remember the sound of birds around them. As him and his brother walked in silence, he looked up, catching glimpses of the stars.

The next day, the gypsy camp had packed up and left, leaving behind scraps of garbage, burned wood and scattered tracks pushed into the grass. These few remaining things were the only evidence that the gypsies had in fact been there. He hadn't even gotten a chance to hear his fortune. Daryl melted back into the woods with a heavy heart.


	2. Chapter 2

Daryl pushed his way through the trees. Fog swirled and danced across the leaf strewn ground, parting at his light tread. He could hear the woods, alive and busy around him. He drew a breath inwards, stationary for a moment, enjoying the morning. Drops of dew fell on his bared shoulders as he once more moved through the forest. A burst of laughter caught his attention, and he turned his head towards the noise, ephemeral and otherworldly. 

He moved closer, following the laughter, bending his body to avoid trees and lightly jumping from one bank of a stream to the next. Whenever he thought he was getting closer, the light titter sailed over the fog from an entirely different direction. Determined, he stopped to listen, only briefly, before tracking the noise. His roving legs lead him to a familiar clearing. Once again, it was filled with battered old campers. His heartbeat quickened and he paused to breathe in the smell of burning spices that rolled over him in waves, transporting him once again to another place in time. The gypsies had returned. 

He melted back into the trees, and watched them setting up their tables and tents. Their wares and trinkets glinted in the rising sun. A small smile turned the corners of his mouth. Little children scampered around, running and playing, their laughter and games disturbing the birds. He remained silent, suspended in time, until a voice lilted and rose above the rest of the clamor. For a moment, not even his heart dared to beat, afraid that it would interrupt the spell that had been cast over him. He moved languidly through the trees, trying to get a better view. 

Her voice echoed around the clearing, enveloping his senses and causing his heart to swell almost painfully with the sweetness of it. The sunlight glinted in her hair as her golden locks cascaded down her shoulders and back. Daryl was willing to swear that he was watching an angel. Her blue eyes visible even from a distance. She strummed along with her guitar, stamping her feet and smiling when an elderly coupled moved to dance and sway. Soon, several other couples joined the fray and he watched the twirling swaths of fabric in absolute wonder. Subconsciously, he had taken several steps forward, gravitating towards the scene in front of him. Before he realized it, he was already breaking through the line of campers. Several women looked at him, smiles on their faces and heads nodding in understanding as they returned to their stitching or washing. The small blonde siren continued to play and sing, undisturbed by the stranger now sitting on the ground beside an empty table. 

Annette had seen the man enter the camp, drawn by the voice of her youngest daughter. She recognized him immediately. Giving him a moment to settle, she grabbed a small wooden chair and carried it close to his resting form. She chuckled lightly at the sight of a grown man, legs crisscrossed and elbows sitting on his knees. His fists balled up and pressing delicately into the skin under his chin. It gave him a very youthful appearance, despite the hard worn exterior. As she sat down, the slight groan of aged wood alerted him to her presence. She placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. 

“It’s been a long time since I saw you last. You’ve grown into quite the striking man.” Annette smiled. It was a mirror image of the girl that had drawn into the camp. 

“Is that Beth?” He looked at her for confirmation. 

“Oh yes, very fetching isn’t she.” Daryl simply nodded his head, not trusting himself to speak. 

Somebody else had taken over the guitar and a young man had compelled her to dance. Daryl watched, a twinge of jealousy tugged at him as the boy placed his hand on her lower back. They twirled and giggled throughout the song, pausing only once for Beth to wrap her arms around a small boy. Daryl chuckled as she planted a light kiss on the child’s cheek, prompting the boy to wipe it off quickly and look around as if to confirm whether or not his friends had noticed. Daryl turned back to Annette, question in his eyes. 

“He belongs to Maggie. My eldest.” She winked at Daryl, causing him to blush. She continued, “We are having a fair tomorrow night, interested in joining us?” He nodded his head in affirmation. 

Annette remained silent as Daryl rose slowly and made to walk out of their camp. He turned his head once more and glanced at Beth. Two older women were chattering away as her spritely laugh punctuated each observation. After memorizing her visage and the look of her sun kissed skin in the morning light, he returned to the solitude of the woods. Annette smiled slyly at his retreating back. 

Beth walked to her mother, throwing her arms around her in a deep embrace. 

“Who was that mamma?” Annette took her daughter’s chin in her hands and looked her in the eye. She gently brushed her nose against her daughter’s, causing Beth to laugh lightly. 

“That is your husband.” Beth paled, but did not look away.

Her mother had told her over fifteen years ago that she would meet her husband this year at the fair. Being a child, she dreamed about him every night, trying to imagine what he might look like. Now that she was older, she didn’t much like the idea of having a preordained husband, wanting instead to marry for love when she was much older. She was the master of her own destiny after all and no amount of magic, or mischief in the case of her mother, would ever move her to change her mind. Yet she had to pause to appreciate the power of Tinker meddling. Her mother was the best meddler of all, often selling love potions to the lay folk and weaving elaborate tales of love and woe for the children. 

She looked around and spotted her father. He lifted his gnarled, work worn hand briefly before turning away. If daddy had it his way, she would be marrying a Tinker boy and very soon. Beth could still remember the night that her mother had told him that their daughter would be marrying an outsider. It caused a fight that lasted for almost two years. She could smile at it now, but back then it had been an ordeal. Her mother was a stubborn woman, immoveable, even for the pleas and lamentations of her closest friends and family. She got her best qualities from her mother, that was absolutely certain. Smiling, she opened the door to their caravan and walked inside. She was determined to meet this ‘husband’ of hers, if only to prove her mother wrong.


End file.
